


I hate you yet I don't

by captainhurricane



Category: Metal Gear
Genre: Blow Jobs, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-03
Updated: 2015-10-03
Packaged: 2018-04-24 14:10:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4922647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captainhurricane/pseuds/captainhurricane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kaz is overworked and stressed. Ocelot offers to help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I hate you yet I don't

The first time Ocelot steps inside Kaz's office on that particularly sunny Sunday, Kaz is already instantly on his guard. The amount of paperwork on his desk is staggering, the frown behind his glasses deepening with every word Kaz's eyes skim over. The soldier who generally stands guard by Kaz's door is behind Ocelot, opening and closing his mouth in an attempt to stop the two that everyone knows are only under the same sun because of their illustrious boss. 

”I tried, Commander,” the soldier stutters when Kaz raises his head and glares hard.   
”Dismissed,” Kaz says through gritted teeth. Three half-empty mugs of coffee, all gone cold are scattered amongst his papers.   
”Sorry, Commander. He was very insistent.” The soldier takes his leave. Ocelot closes the door behind himself. His ever-present spurs clink, too loudly, too purposefully. He clears his throat. 

Kaz leans back on his chair, hair disheveled, trench coat discarded to the back of his chair.   
”What.”   
Ocelot crosses his arms. He raises an eyebrow.   
”You look like hell, Miller.” Kaz rubs his forehead.   
”Go away, Ocelot. Don't you see the amount of work I'm in the middle of?” No matter that they were on the same side. No matter that they were both under Big Boss' flag. It didn't matter because Ocelot was an unknown, a truer snake than Snake himself. And Kaz couldn't ever put his life on the line for him. Or his work.   
”I do have two working eyes,” Ocelot says and then dares to come closer, to lean and put his gloved hands on Kaz's desk. Kaz pushes his chair further away from it. 

”Real fucking funny,” Kaz snarls. Ocelot shrugs. He rather liked this Kaz, this one who spilled his rage all over, his betrayal and his bitterness spat through gritted teeth. It was better than the Kaz who had worried and worried, made phone calls and stared into the distance, waiting for their boss to wake up from his long sleep.   
”But I mean it, Miller. Take a break. No matter how fine you look all disheveled, I'd rather have you alive and kicking.” 

Kaz blinks, looks away. They've had these odd moments before- Ocelot would say something oddly intimate, would grab his arm and offer him that twisted little smirk and Kaz's insides would go haywire. Even during the sessions in Room 101, when the one on the chair was twitching and screaming, even then Ocelot might turn to look at Kaz with a smirk on his face. 

Nobody needs to know that Kaz curses the loss of his other hand for more than one reason. It's a little hard to jack off when your worse hand is the one left. 

”Fuck off,” Kaz says instead, refusing to give in to whatever goes through Ocelot's head. They might be planners, deceivers but Ocelot would never gain the upper hand with him. Especially not while Big Boss' watchful eye was on them both.   
”Nah,” says Ocelot and locks the door. Kaz swallows, watches him circle the table.   
”The boss has been on a mission for quite some time,” Ocelot continues, chatting like they were talking about the weather and not like Ocelot was reaching for Kaz's jacket buttons. Kaz swats his hands away but they slip down to Kaz's belt. 

It had been some time with nothing but his own hand on his dick. And hitting on the women on the base didn't have the same thrill anymore. Not when he couldn't see properly, not when he can't even walk without his crutch. Not when the women were hard as nails and not the type to fall for a bright smile. 

And they wouldn't be this brash. 

”I know that,” Kaz grunts, pushes the chair further away but Ocelot graps the chair handles and stops him.   
”Here I am, offering to suck your dick out of my own free, good will and you refuse? Tsk, tsk, Miller. Am I not good enough?” All of it is said with a cruel twist of his mouth, hands sliding against Kaz's buttons again, popping them open. Going lower for the belt and unhooking it in a blink of an eye. 

”I don't like you,” Kaz says finally, biting the inside of his cheek at the childish response. Ocelot huffs, his laughter muffled when he presses his face against Kaz's groin. Kaz flinches.   
”Or maybe it's because I am not the boss?”   
”Fuck off,” Kaz grunts, reaches to grab Ocelot's hair but it only serves to fuel his fire.   
”Nah. I think I won't.” Ocelot ends the sentence by opening Kaz's pants, tugs them lower along with his briefs and has his dick in his mouth before Kaz can say another word in protest. 

What comes out from between his lips is a curse instead. Kaz's fingers tighten in Ocelot's silver strands.   
”Ocelot,” Kaz starts but Ocelot licks him, wraps his leatherclad fingers around the base and then looks up at him and Kaz can't speak anymore. It has been years since anyone was on their knees for him, since anyone had their warm mouth around his dick and Kaz is embarrassingly hardening with every lick, every stroke. Ocelot looks like he's having the time of his life, even closes his eyes as he carefully, with confident flicks of his tongue coaxes Kaz's dick into a full erection. Only then does he start to suck it properly, his wet mouth incredibly warm. 

Kaz shivers, his head flopping against the backrest of his chair. His hips twitch against Ocelot's steadily growing rhythm. Not once does Ocelot stop to breath, only to pull off his glove so the next time fingers tighten around the base, they're rough and warm. Sweat gathers on Kaz's skin and he struggles, licks his lips, swallows to get some saliva to his dry mouth. 

”Ocelot, fuck,” he starts, tries to straighten in his seat but Ocelot just hums against his dick.   
”It's too hot.”   
That gets a huff of laughter and a wet plop when Ocelot withdraws his mouth. He licks stickiness from his lips but his hand continues the soft, subtle movements. Kaz trembles.   
”Take off- my jacket. It's too hot,” he grumbles, struggles to shrug off his green jacket. It's sturdiness is comforting against his beaten skin but now he wants it off. Ocelot withdraws his hand- Kaz bites back a whine- and helps him out of the jacket, even loosens his tie for him. 

”Your face is red,” Ocelot remarks, pleased at what he sees. Kaz's snarl is less effective with a blush and with his erection poking out of the mess of his clothes.   
”Fuck off,” Kaz says instead.   
”I don't think you want me to fuck off,” Ocelot says casually and kneels again to resume his work.   
”I-” Kaz starts but moans instead when the bastard dares to take him so deep his dick hits the back of his throat. The same bastard also doesn't seem to have a gag reflex as there is no sound of choking. Kaz grips his hair again, pulls.   
”I'm gonna fucking come if you do that,” Kaz hisses. Ocelot laughs.   
”You've always wanted your dick down my throat, Miller. Don't be a liar now.” Says the deceitful liar himself. Kaz's answer is drowned out by another moan when Ocelot repeats his feat and deepthroats him for a good few moments. This time he gags but controls it, slowing his rhythm and then making it quicker again. 

The slickness, the warmth is too much and yet Kaz wants to see. Wants to fuck that bastard's face until his load colours that smirk white. He grunts, his glasses slipping. Ocelot looks up at him, face flushed, pre-cum on his fingers and on his lips. Kaz's dick is hard and red, the sight thoroughly arousing as Ocelot flicks his tongue against its tip and then takes it in, certain that Kaz sees every inch that disappears between his lips. Kaz doesn't protest when Ocelot reaches with his clean hand and pulls off his glasses. His vision goes blurrier immediately but Ocelot remains clear. 

”Focus, Miller,” Ocelot murmurs, his warm, saliva-slick fingers now fondling Kaz's balls. Kaz moans, hips twitching helplessly because Ocelot's tongue is absurdly wicked.   
”I'm- focusing, you asshole,” Kaz grunts and pulls Ocelot's hair again. Ocelot sucks him off harder at that and then Kaz can't hold it anymore. He squeezes his eyes shut, whimpering through his climax, head once again resting back. His whole body tenses, his world nothing but white and rushing blood for a few blissful seconds. 

When it's over, he slumps, blinks. Ocelot is standing in front of him, wiping his mouth with a paper towel and doing nothing about the slight tent in his own pants. Kaz's body throbs with need.   
”Ocelot,” Kaz grunts. Ocelot offers him a stack of paper towels.   
”Or do you need help?” Kaz sits up straighter and wipes his spent dick with a shaking hand.   
”Do you?” Kaz repeats at him, not looking for Ocelot's reaction. 

”You're not up to it, Miller,” Ocelot says and leans. Kaz raises his head just in time to get a kiss. He splutters, face going redder.   
”I'm fine-” Kaz wheezes but Ocelot shrugs, takes his leave before Kaz can collect himself. 

The door slams. Kaz groans, hides his face against his sleeve. His body reminds him what just went on, how absurdly, awfully good Ocelot's devious mouth felt on him.   
”I hate him,” Kaz murmurs to the empty room.


End file.
